I’m consumed with the need to protect my family from the unseen enemy. I’ll destroy it and everyone associated with it.
The longest part of the funeral is over, and Bella walks in front of us, offering roses.
Under umbrellas held by trusty soldiers, we walk to the graveside. Dante has an arm around our mother’s waist, holding her upright.
She shouldn’t have to face this soul-crushing loss.
I place the first flower on my father’s casket.
And long after everyone has walked away, I’m still there, Alessia at my side.
I remain where I am as the man who meant the world to me is lowered into the ground.
Cemetery workers stand nearby, at a respectful distance.
Uncaring how soaked the grass is, I cross to where they’re standing and grab a shovel from them.
Needing an outlet for the turmoil churning through me, I throw shovel after shovel of wet, heavy mud on top of him.
My responsibility. Myduty.
Live by the sword; die by the sword.
Before I rest, one of those two things will happen.
Trying to outpace the pain, I throw another shovelful, a man possessed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Matteo
Hill Country, Texas
The massive oak door swings open. A soldier acknowledges me with a curt nod as he steps aside to let me through. The air inside the historic Hill Country ranch house belonging to my family is thick, heavy with the scent of aged wood, leather, and the faint tang of legacy itself.
This space—this house—has always felt like it belonged to something greater than any one man. From this day forward, it belongs to me.
My shoes echo against the wide-planked floors as I step inside, my gaze sweeping the room. Towering ceilings loom above, crisscrossed with exposed beams, while narrow windows cast fractured light on the stone walls.
Portraits of former dons line the room, their painted eyes seeming to track my every step. At the far end of the hall, the usurper’s shadowed portrait hangs there like a stain, a reminder of what must never happen again.
I pause before my father’s portrait, his gaze as sharp and unrelenting as it was in life. My jaw tightens as I make my silent vow. “I promise to do you proud.”
I continue to the back of the house where there’s a room that’s been set up for today’s ascension meeting.
As I near, the hum of conversation buzzes louder.
Nico is waiting near the door, his posture straight, his expression unreadable. As I approach, he extends his hand, his grip firm and steady. “They’re ready for you, boss.” His tone is tinged with quiet respect.
The title feels heavier than the ring I’ll soon wear, but I nod, tightening my tie before stepping past him.
The room falls silent as we enter.
A table dominates the space, a polished mahogany altar to power. Around it are men who have shaped this family alongside my father. Allies sit toward the front, their expressions guarded, watchful. Farther down, hesitation and calculation linger on the faces I’ve spent a lifetime studying.
Is there a challenger here? An assassin waiting for the perfect moment?
Toward the far end of the room, Dante and Dario stand.